


Party Favors

by GayBirdWrites



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, BDSM Scene, Bondage, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Free Use, Gangbang, Multi, Orgasm Denial, Public Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Spitroasting, Stuck in a wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:39:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24331468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayBirdWrites/pseuds/GayBirdWrites
Summary: Kray and Galo have very different ideas of how one should behave at a party.Please mind the tags!
Relationships: Kray Foresight/Galo Thymos
Comments: 2
Kudos: 80





	Party Favors

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no smut, y’all! This is a special surprise birthday piece for @goodboygalo on Twitter. Happy birthday Kai!! I hope you enjoy!

Galo had fond memories of Kray’s birthdays when he was a little boy. Sitting in his lap as he blew out the candles on a slightly smushed grocery-store cake, fumbling over the melody to “Happy Birthday”, with a single foil balloon tied to the kitchen chair behind them. Kray never really liked to celebrate — it was a distraction, he’d always say, and he didn’t have time for distractions — so Galo would try to scrape together what he could for him. The presents were always handmade, the wrapping paper stolen and recycled from dumpsters and patched up with whatever old newspapers he could find. Not that it mattered.

After about a week, the cake would be unceremoniously dumped, half-eaten and stale, into the garbage bin, and the popsicle stick picture frames and “#1 Hero” mugs would disappear from memory entirely. No further celebrations would happen until the following year. This was the state of things for awhile.

As Galo grew older, though, that landscape began to change. Kray had begun to work his way up in Promepolis, and his new status had unlocked all sorts of new party opportunities. They were celebration in name only; beyond that veneer, they were evenings of indulgence, grandiose displays of wealth and opportunities for the upper class and the up-and-coming to drink and chat till they could no longer stand. This was called “networking”, Galo learned, and it was how adults got things done.

When he was sixteen, Kray invited Galo to his first “networking event”. He was dressed in a modest suit, hair combed back to mimic his guardian’s, and spent the evening introduced to a whirlwind of names and titles. He was offered champagne, which bubbled and stung his lips but settled quite pleasantly after a moment. The food, though bite-sized, was divine. He found a chocolate cake that made the years of his store-bought rejects taste like sawdust. No wonder Kray made an exception for these sort of evenings. It was living indulgence.

Two years later, Kray moved them out of their tiny apartment and into a lavish townhome on the edge of the city. There, he learned the differences between the everyday silverware and what Kray dubbed “the good china”, and the best way to hand-wash champagne flutes. He learned how to tie a bowtie and pour wine for guests. He learned fast, lest he tempt Kray’s drunken anger for his imperfection. The outbursts were rare, but Galo knew first-hand what Kray’s fury looked like. It was large hands ripping at clothes, heavy dress shoes stumbling across the floor as he cornered Galo and struck whatever fit his fancy. It wasn’t discrete either; the guests would grope at Galo, try to trip him up, anything to tempt Kray into showing his true colors and make a display out of the young man. 

He had only failed so badly once, and it was a mistake he had paid for dearly.   
  


* * *

Galo didn’t stop to ask why Kray had such an ornate wooden stockade block in the house, or when he had decided to purchase it. His head was still heavy from the booze as the latches clicked into place around his wrists and neck. A heavy boot kicked his legs wide, and he felt similar cuffs close around his ankles. This was punishment, Kray said aloud to the room of equally-inebriated partygoers. There would be no tolerance for slacking off on the job, no matter how much like family Galo may be. 

_Had he really been slacking?_ He thought to himself as his slacks were yanked down his legs. He had been tasked with serving the guests, but they had insisted he drink with them. The young men in suits with women on delicate leashes laughed when he got flustered, but now they looked down at him with a certain hunger. Maybe it had always been there, and he was just blind to it. 

A sharp slap against his ass dragged him back into reality. The party, the stockades, all eyes on his form, bent over and exposed. Where was Kray? Was he-

Galo’s stomach dropped as he felt a rough hand spread his cheeks wide. A single finger, slick with _something_ , pressed into his hole without warning. He wanted to run, needed to get away from whatever was going on. The finger pumped in and out of him a few times before being joined by a second. The stretch burned Galo, it was all too soon, and he let out a choked sob. “I don’t understand…” He sputtered, the heat in his gut growing despite his drunken state.

The two fingers stopped, and the figure responsible leaned close over Galo’s hunched form. “I told you I would make an example out of you, Thymos.” Kray sneered into his ear. _No._ It couldn’t be. “And unlike you, _I’m_ capable of keeping my word.”

Kray returned to stretching him out, his thick fingers forcing him open in a v-shaped motion. Galo could barely breathe. Every gasp of breath was accompanied by a pathetic mewl, and his body refused to focus on anything other than the sensation. 

Without warning, another figure stepped in front of Galo, and shoved a thick, blunt cock into his slack jaw. He coughed and squirmed but the man had taken a firm hold of his fluffy hair, and pumped relentlessly into the back of his throat. Galo wanted to puke. The man tasted like sweat and salt, and his neglected belt buckle kept slamming into his cheek with every thrust. Tears spilled down from his eyes as he prayed for it to be over soon. 

The fingers retreated from Galo’s ass, and he felt a moment of relief before the tip of Kray’s dick took their place. He bottomed out without hesitation, and Galo shook in the stocks, crying pitifully around the cock in his mouth. Kray took a firm hold of Galo’s hips and began to thrust into him slow and deep, thumbs pressing bruises into either side, while the other man continued to fuck hard and fast into his swollen throat. 

The rest of the party guests seemed to take this as an invitation. His imprisoned body was swarmed by hands, pinching his nipples, pulling his hair, and slapping bruises into his thighs. Someone slipped a cock ring onto him and he sobbed at the sensation; he had grown painfully hard without even realizing it, and that one touch made him want to beg for more. 

The man at Galo’s front finally pulled his cock away, giving the young man only a second to breathe before he came all over his swollen lips. Galo flinched as hands pulled his jaw open to swallow the load, and then another dick was quickly thrust into its place. This one was thinner, but impossibly long, and Galo’s throat spasmed as the owner forced himself down to the base. Someone pressed their hand into his neck, pushing back at the bulge his throat struggled to contain. 

Galo wanted to faint. His head was spinning, and he could no longer keep track of who was doing what to which end of him. He was floating in a sea of noise and overstimulation, content to let the tide drag him out to sea and drown him. But Kray had other ideas. He slammed Galo’s hips onto his cock, thrusting up into his prostate. 

“FFF-FWAAH!” Galo’s gargled moans cut through the crowd, stirring them into a new frenzy. He had been dragged back into coherence, snapped out of the drunken haze... and there was nothing he could do about it. The partygoers hurled insults like “whore” and “fucktoy”, and slapped their cocks against his cheeks as he struggled to catch his breath. Kray’s hips finally slowed as he came inside Galo’s hole, hot cum dripping down his thighs after he pulled out. Galo’s legs trembled. 

It wasn’t over, Galo realized as a new figure stepped behind him and shoved his cock in without warning. It wasn’t going to be over for awhile. Kray’s fingers traced along Galo’s hips and down to his cock, numb and leaking and impossibly hard, and gave it a single, sharp tug. _Fuck_ , he needed to cum. Pressure was building up in the pit of his stomach, rolling waves of pleasure and pain shot through him as strangers took their turns with him. Galo’s face was a mess of cum and tears, his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips split and bleeding. His tan skin was covered in bruises shaped like fingerprints and belt-lashings, and someone with a marker had written “FREE USE” across his lower back. 

Time was meaningless. But eventually, the party died down, and Galo was suddenly left _very_ alone as Kray walked the last of the guests to the door. He heard the front lock turn, followed by soft footsteps. 

“Have you learned?” The voice above him demanded to know. 

“Yes, sir.” Galo’s response was barely a whisper, his throat raw and torn. 

Kray knelt down and slowly removed the cock ring from Galo’s still-throbbing erection. He winced, rolling his hips into the stimulation that he was at last being afforded. 

“You’ll stay here tonight. To make sure what you’ve learned sticks.”

Kray rose again, taking a final glance at Galo’s abused figure. A puddle had soaked the wood between his legs. _What a pain,_ he thought, _it would be if I need to replace the flooring._

Kray flipped the light switch, and Galo was left in the dark to sob. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this fic, please consider following me on Twitter @gaybirdrights!


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